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The room was quiet but for the random clicks and whirs of the seldom used communications console. The Martian warrior stood in the doorway, his low hissing breath the only sign that he was alive. His back was to the room, since he did not expect any Pels to be walking through walls, so he did not notice the first crack appear in the smooth stone wall beside the console. As the crack got larger so the draft from the passage wafted into the room. It took only moments for the cool air to hit the Martian in the back. At first he was pleased at the sensation, not much liking the stuffy air of the citadel, but then he thought about it and turned around. He was just in time to notice the two Pel guards launch themselves at him. The three bodies collided and they fell into the corridor. The “Doctor” cringed at the sound of bones cracking, and turned quickly to Howerts. ‘Be careful,’ he said forcefully. Howerts glanced daggers at the “Doctor’s” back and stepped before the King. He folded his arms, resting his left hand on the hilt of his sword. King Garet remained behind him, his back to the secret entrance, looking over his advisor’s shoulder at the fighting in the corridor. The “Doctor” gave the console the once over, familiarising himself with the antiquated machine, then set to work. ‘Oh no,’ King Garet said, as the Martian warrior entered the room, red blood splashed over his green armour. Garet glanced beyond the Martian, and got a glimpse of the dead guards lying in the corridor. Howerts removed his sword and advanced on the warrior. ‘In the name of Peladon!’ he screamed and swung his sword. King Garet closed his eyes, and began to pray softly. ‘Spirit of Aggedor, hear me...’ The “Doctor” hit the send button and turned just as Howerts’ body came flying towards him. He sidestepped quickly, and Howerts hit the console. Sparks exploded out, and an electrifying charge shot through Howerts’ body. ‘Oh no, this is terrible,’ the “Doctor” uttered, as he started looking through his pockets for something to use. He glanced up at the Martian and his unhappy look got worse. Two more Martians were entering the room. King Garet moved forward, stepping over the bloody body of Howerts. He raised his hands. ‘I am the one you want,’ he said loudly, then glanced at the “Doctor” and whispered. ‘Go and get help.’ The “Doctor” was torn. Could he leave the King to the mercy of the Martian warriors? The communications console was ruined, and he was certain that his SOS had not got out in time. The “Doctor” let out a sigh and gave Garet a thumb’s up. With that he quickly rushed through the secret entrance while King Garet continued to block the way of the Martians. Commander Sshaarp wanted the Pel King alive, so the Martians were uncertain as to whether they should hurt him or not. Their indecision was their undoing. It gave the “Doctor” the time he needed to close the passage door until it fitted into the wall seamlessly. The Martian who had been on guard took hold of King Garet, tightening his vice-like hands across the king’s arms. Two Martians attempted to locate the secret doorway but had very little success. ‘It is unimportant,’ the Martian guard said, and glanced down at the angered Garet. ‘We have the Pel King. Commander Sshaarp will be waiting.’ Wrapped in a cocoon of shock and grief, Alf stared into space without blinking; without even moving. Her face was still wet from the tears that she refused to cry. Within her mind’s eye she could see Nick being killed, his body slamming against the wall, repeating over and over again. I can’t believe you’re gone, she thought, the words in her mind barely registering. There was so much I wanted to say to you. To explain. And now it’s too late! I never even got the bloody chance to tell you how much I love you... ‘Alf?’ Vlaash looked over at the human with concern when she didn’t respond. How much longer would she sit there with that vacant expression in her eyes? he wondered. He mourned Nick too, he had come to know Nick as a trusted friend, but somehow he knew Alf’s sorrow was more personal. Vlaash paused for a few moments as the vision of a vibrant, smiling Nick ran through his thoughts. That was the best way to honour someone, to keep them alive in your thoughts. I will remember you, my friend. ‘Vlaash, forgive my intrusion upon your meditation, but it is important that you know what Commander Xzalnyr had planned,’ Stoorxz said as he approached the High Priest. Vlaash nodded solemnly. ‘Yes?’ ‘The Chosen Ones under Marshall Wellarzlee have no honour, as they have proven by killing our own allies. They are intent on war and they must be stopped whatever the cost. If we do nothing, Mars will be lost to us. The sacrifice of Commander Xzalnyr will be in vain.’ They had waited, but Xzalnyr had not returned. Since that time Stoorxz had taken command, and explained fully what Xzalnyr had planned. Vlaash had not been too impressed, but he had understood the need. As for Alf... she had nothing to contribute. Stoorxz and Vlaash looked at the human, and the Sub-Commander said; ‘As will the loss of Nick.’ Alf finally reacted to the sound of Nick’s name and turned and peered back at Vlaash and Stoorxz. Why did it matter to her now? Nick was dead. But somehow it did matter; Stoorxz was right, after the war with the Cybermen, they had to act to stop the Chosen Ones. Nick and Xzalnyr’s deaths would never be for nothing. Nick had wanted to help Vlaash, and for the sake of his memory, Alf would too. ‘You’re right.’ She stood up, and added slowly, her voice edged with pain; ‘They must be defeated.’ Vlaash looked upward as he considered what would lie ahead for all of them. ‘I see no other choice as well, Sub-Commander. We must do what we have to do.’ He replied with sadness, and then turning so that he faced Alf, he bowed his head slightly. ‘Now, I must go and prepare myself for my meeting with Emperor Izlyr. Shsurr Alf, will you accompany me?’
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